Mason and Woods 4Evar
by dryskim
Summary: The story of Alex Mason and Frank Woods as they embark upon a journey of discovery and learn more about themselves in the process. Some Slash.  Note: Not to be taken seriously in the slightest


The Russian had Mason down for the count, their was no avoiding it. The massive knife headed straight for his heart, his life flashing before his eyes. He closed his eyes and waited for his imminent death. A single gunshot rang through the cold night air causing Mason to open his eye slightly. Not far away on a hill was a man on a horse, the moon blazing behind him like some super human god. The man rode closer until Mason could recognize the man on the horse, Woods.

"You okay, Mason?" asked Woods, pulling Mason to his feet.

"Never been better," was Mason's reply.

"Shit!" yelped Woods, "Enemy Hind! Take cover!"

The pair ducked behind a nearby rock as the sleek-black gunship circled overhead, like a bird of prey looking for it's next meal. Woods pulled an M60 Light Machine Gun from his saddle while handing Mason a weapon as well. Woods promptly ripped off his shirt, revealing his toned abs which Mason could only marvel at, and took off running firing the M60 at the Hind as he went. Mason looked down at his own weapon and smiled.

In his hand sat a small yellow squeaky duck, a highly dangerous and powerful SOG only prototype weapon. Mason drew back his arm and threw the duck at the Hind, the duck impacted the Hind's windshield and softly quacked on impact. Drawn by the sound a pack of wild geese rained down on the Hind which exploded into a massive fireball.

"Mason, quick! We have to move, get back to the horse!" yelled Woods, mounting his horse while Mason ran across the field to join him Mason pulled himself up onto the horse and pressed a button on the horses' neck, the horses' head split down the middle to reveal a massive minigun in it's place. Mason grabbed the minigun's handles whilst Woods grabbed the reins, his abs rubbing into Mason's back, causing the younger man to blush..

"Mason, you okay?" asked Woods, "You look pretty red."

"It's nothing" replied Mason, a chill going down his spine due to Woods hot breath on his neck.

The pair rode their majestic minigun-horse for many miles, traveling all the way from Russia to Cuba.

"We're here," said Woods, "We made it."

Mason turned to his closet friend, taking in his sweaty chest and his slightly tousled hair, and he loved every second of it. But his time for gawking was shattered by Woods throwing him off the minigun-horse and onto the cold, hard ground. Woods followed suit, falling into the ditch on top of Mason as the minigun-horse was struck by a rocket. Mason was in pure heaven, Woods was on top of him, the toned-commando mere inches away.

Mason opened his mouth to say something but Woods shushed him, "Fidel and his Bear Cavalry are everywhere, stay here until I come back. Understood?"

Mason nodded but as Woods turned to leave he caught his arm, "Woods…I…" he started.

Woods paused and said, "I know." Revealing a massive tattoo on his chest which read : Mason and Woods 4-Ever. Oddly, Mason had never noticed it before now.

"Be careful," whispered Mason, Woods only nodded before chambering a round into his Desert Eagle. But once more, Mason stopped him from leaving this time drawing him into a passionate kiss. His tongue doing the equivalent of spelunking in Woods mouth.

"My…my what a beautiful scene," said an unseen voice. The lovers turned to the voice, which belonged to one John F. Kennedy.

"You can't be here!" gasped Mason, "You're dead, I saw you die!"

Kennedy only laughed, "Oh, how right you are." And his head spontaneously decomposed - revealing that he was a Zombie! Woods unloaded his magnum into the undead president, his hand cannon clicking empty on the final shot. The two men clung to each other as the rotting pile of flesh strode towards them, the deformed face of JFK laughing at their fear. Just as Zombie-JFK was within reach of the pair, his head exploded. As the zombie fell dead, Bowman ran up to them, his smoking shotgun in hand.

"Yo, you okay, Brotha?" he asked, helping them to their feet before leading them to his hut in Vietnam where he was living.

"So what brought you crackers to my neck of the woods?" asked Bowman, offering the commandos a plate of warm cookies, which they devoured in mere moments.

"Tea or Coffee?" asked Bowman, pulling a pitcher from the fridge.

"Coffee." said Mason.

"Tea." said Woods.

"Didn't know you liked tea," said Mason.

"Their's a lot you don't know about me," replied Woods, adopting a perfect Yorkshire accent, revealing his origins.

Bowman returned from the kitchen wearing a frilly apron, with a thin Vietnamese woman on his arm. "Their's a bedroom in the back if you two want to use it."

Mason looked at Woods who looked at Mason.

"We'll take it." they both said.

Mason spread himself out on the red velvet bed waiting for Woods to come join him. Soon, Woods entered the room and laid close to Mason, "I…I can't do it like…this_…_" whispered Woods.

"It's okay," replied Mason, stroking Woods' chin.

"No, I can't…" said Woods, "I'm a robot."

"I could care less what you are," replied Mason, "You could be a goat, it wouldn't change our love."

-Cut Forward Ten Years-

"Dad! Where's my baseball glove?" shouted little Jerry Woods, tossing things all over his room.

Mason shrugged, Woods stood with his arm around his lover and said, "I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere."

Jerry bleated and stormed off.

"Don't you bleat at me, boy!" shouted Woods, turning his goat-human-robot hybrid son to face him.

"But dad-" whined Jerry.

-Present Day, Vietnam 1968-

"Mason, wake up." said Woods, nudging the captured soldier.j

Mason just made a slight kissy-face and leaned closer to his rescuer while whispering something along the lines of, "Oh..Woods…I love it when you're angry…"

"This the guy you said you trust with your life?" asked Swift, standing behinds Woods as Mason continued to try and kiss Woods while commenting on his abs.

"Yes…" grumbled Woods, as Mason planted a kiss on his check.

"Boys fucked up." said Swift with a chuckle.

Woods just scowled back at him.

**For the Record, this was parody and by no means is an accurate depiction of Black Ops. This is for purely humorous purposes, so please leave any criticism in the form of a review.**

**-As always, I do not own Call of Duty, or any characters in this fan fiction.-**__


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